


Ménage à Tae

by JupiterJoon



Series: Bon Voyage! [4]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Aliases, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Kim Taehyung | V, Couple! Namjin, Established Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Kim Taehyung | V-centric, M/M, Minor Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga, Multi, Photographer! Taehyung, Porn With Plot, Power Play, Safe Sane and Consensual, Some Plot, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Kim Namjoon | RM, Top Kim Seokjin | Jin, Trans Character, ménage à trois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterJoon/pseuds/JupiterJoon
Summary: Excerpt:He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “Would you want to photograph us?”Taehyung watches them exchange another tacit look. He sinks his teeth back into his bottom lip, ruffling the back of his hair as he thinks over the offer. Really, he shouldn’t feel so shy since he’ll be behind the lens, but something about the eagerness in both their eyes makes his heart flutter.“Um… actually, sure,” Taehyung all but whispers.“Do you want to come back to our room?”





	Ménage à Tae

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this was supposed to be 5k Idk what happened but enjoy

Taehyung slaps the roof of the car three or four times before sliding down the hood over to Yoonji.

“Road trip, road trip!” He sings, a large, boxy grin plastered on his face. Yoonji stands, arms crossed, with a small smile on her face. Taehyung giggles at her and places an arm on her waist, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Let’s go! Road Trip!”

“Calm down,” Yoonji gripes, still smiling a little. “It’s not a road trip, we are just both going the same direction.” She slides out of Taehyung’s grip and into the driver’s seat. The morning air carried a slight chill with the lingering humidity of late fall, so she already had the car running. Taehyung makes a long “oh” sound as she easily situates herself in the driver’s seat.

“Yoonji,” Taehyung says sweetly, hopping into his own side of the car and buckling up, “you are so cool. A racecar driver.”

Yoonji scrunches her nose at him but does settle into the seat more comfortably. She checks the backseat for both of their bags one last time before turning on the car. Taehyung claps his hands happily.

Yoonji rolls her shoulders, and throws on some orange-tinted shades, wondering if she really does look cool driving. “Let’s get this show on the road, we both have things to do.”

“Or people to do,” Taehyung teases. Yoonji slams on the brakes as they roll out of the parking spot, causing Taehyung to shoulder check the dashboard. “Okay, okay, sorry.” 

She wasn’t about to spend the whole car ride burning up thinking about how Taehyung may manage to pry her entire sex life out of her before they get there. Taehyung may be more excited than Yoonji that she and Hoseok are now dating. Once it finally happened, Taehyung unleashed a rant of complaints about how hard it was to keep their feelings a secret and play matchmaker behind the scenes. Yoonji had felt hot the entire time.

Instead, Taehyung settles into his seat and pulls a pamphlet out of his bag. He giggles to himself as he throws his feet on the dash before Yoonji slaps them back down. Undeterred, he flips open the flimsy pieces of paper and scans with eager eyes. 

An art show. He’s going to an art show. To do interviews. To take pictures. It’s a dream come true.

His university actually gave him funding to go to an art show he had originally applied to be in as a rookie. Even though he hadn’t gotten in, the school still gave him some of the grant money for a hotel room to write a review and do some interviews about the art museum, which promotes emerging local talent.

Coincidentally, the museum is in Hoseok’s town. So, Yoonji offered to drive on the pretense of “already having business in the area”.

The ride there is easy. Yoonji swerves between traffic while telling Taehyung to stop staring at her. Taehyung raps along to every single one of the songs Yoonji’s helped produce. He sends about 20 pictures to Hoseok and reads every compliment he sends back out loud.

Honestly, by the time they arrive at Taehyung’s hotel, all the attention has exhausted Yoonji.

“Wah,” Taehyung says as they walk into the lobby, smelling of fresh linen and chlorine from the pool.

“Wah!” Taehyung says as they look at the marble front desk, lined with fake flowers and a small waterfall sign behind the attendants.

“Wah,” Taehyung comments as they get into the elevator, cushioned with red carpet.

“Wah,” Yoonji says before Taehyung can start when they open the door to the hotel room. To her, absolutely nothing here seems extraordinary for a hotel. “You have been to a hotel before, right?”

Taehyung shuffles in, drops his bag, then back dives onto the bed. He sinks in. “Never to one this fake fancy.”

“Really? Fake fancy after all your oo-ing and awe-ing?” Yoonji crosses her arms and perches on the edge of the bed.

Taehyung’s arm shoots up from where it’s sunk into the comforter, index finger pointed to the ceiling. “There’s no way they have a real Van Gogh hanging in the lobby, but they also couldn’t afford real art.”

Yoonji scoffs, “Of course, how could I not notice.”

They sit there in silence for a few moments.

“So,” Yoonji itches under her eye absently. “We’ve been on the road awhile, so I better get to Hobi’s before my foot turns to lead.”

“Ah, yeah,” Taehyung props up on his elbows. He has a smile, but it’s forced. None of his teeth show, his eyes are squinting too tight. The company would be great, but he doesn’t want to intrude. “Have fun, you love birds.”

Yoonji grimaces. Taehyung had tried to convince Jungkook to come with him. He just didn’t do well with loneliness. Yoonji felt bad leaving, but Hoseok said his roommate was out of town, and he had the whole evening planned…

Still. 

“You sure you’re okay?”

Now, a genuine smile softens Taehyung’s features. The warmth blossoming in his chest makes him wiggle his toes and shoulders in glee. 

“Yoonji,” he toes at the girl’s thigh. “Are you worried about me?”

Yoonji shoves at his foot and stands. “You can call if you need to,” she directs to the wall rather than Taehyung, then marches out.

“Love you!” Taehyung calls. Yoonji pauses before she closes the door, shooting Taehyung a glare. He hears a grumble before the door closes.

Taehyung stares at the door. He already feels forlorn and it’s only been a few seconds. He shakes his head and sits up. He has a lot to do. He hasn’t finished his interview questions. He’s waiting on an email to tell him how much space he’ll have in the university paper.

So, he heaves off the bed and starts to dig through his bag. Before he’s even pulled out tomorrow’s clothes, he hears a knock at the door.

“Back to say you love me, too?” Taehyung sings as he heads to the door. When he swings it open with a big smile, it’s not Yoonji.

In contrast to the [stale] air of his hotel room, he’s greeted with the sweet smell of fresh wood. A tall man stands there, like a tree himself, hand still outstretched towards the door, eyes wide and eyebrows reaching towards his scalp. Taehyung looks him over, his clothes baggy and comfortable, a large paisley print kimono hanging off his shoulders.

“Nice style,” Taehyung comments, leaning on the door handle.

This seems to snap the man out of his daze. “Oh, um, sorry, is this…?” he looks over at the door again, then puts his hand over his mouth. When he pulls it down, his plump, bottom lip drags with it and snaps back up. Taehyung wets his own lips. 

“Shit, sorry, I’m one floor too low. Sorry!” He says, waving apologetically and turning on his heel. He scuffles, hunched over, back towards the elevator before Taehyung can tell him it’s fine. He watches him go, not sure if he is disappointed it wasn’t Yoonji.

With a huff, he lets the door fall closed. Taehyung is psyched about the funding, but being alone in a big hotel isn’t his ideal. He wants to share it with someone. Take pictures of someone else enjoying all of this.

Taehyung glances at the camera sitting atop his bag but decides to leave it be. He heads back to the bed, spreading his fingers wide over the plush, white fabric. It’s nicer than the bed in his apartment, and at least there are enough pillows to encase himself whichever way he turns. He snags one large pillow and tucks it under his chin and between his legs, sighing at the immediate comfort.

So comforting that he immediately dozes off. He’d barely slept due to excitement, but now the exhaustion crashed down on him. 

Hours later, Taehyung groggily comes to, confused why the whole world is vibrating. As he cracks an eye open, smacking his lips as though to eat away the sleepiness, he realizes it’s just his breast pocket. The screen glows in his pocket, the rest of the room in a soft glow from the setting sun outside.

He pulls the device out and almost drops it on his face. To avoid future mistakes, he rolls over, curling his legs around another pillow as he opens the message.

Yoonji

_ What are you doing tonight _

_ What are you doing tonight _

Missed call

_ Dumbass answer your phone _

  
  


Taehyung smiles. He closes his eyes again to contemplate what he’ll do.

Tae

_ I’m watching  Call Me By Your Name _

_ To make it an even 50 times _

Yoonji

_ Taetae hai :3 _

Taehyung giggles, rolling onto his back again. He can’t imagine Yoonji letting someone else hold her phone, but apparently she has no problem with Hoseok invading her privacy.

Yoonji

_ Okay, well, enjoy the movie _

Tae

_ That sounds _

_ sUsPiciOUs _

Someone bangs against his door with a heavy fist. This time, Taehyung does drop the phone on his face. Damn, Yoonji or Hoseok has quite the impact.

“Coming!” Taehyung calls, rolling out of the bed and landing on his knees. He ruffles his hands through his hair as he goes to-

“Heeeeeyyy!” The door is not even open a crack when the body on the other side pushes in with force enough to leave a hole in the wall. Taehyung grabs at broad shoulders to try and hold the stranger up as he slouches into him.

“Joonie!” a loud, high voice shrieks. A blinding smile crinkles the man’s eyes and rounds his red cheeks as the face crashes into his chest. Taehyung grasps the man’s shoulders, trying to support himself from falling backward. He steps back and finds the wall, grateful for the extra support.

“Why did you lock me out? Asshole.” The stranger practically gurgles into Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Sir,” Taehyung tries, voice strained as he tries to shove the man nuzzling into his shoulder. Now Taehyung can smell what’s making his cheeks and ears cherry red. The sharp scent of alcohol wafts air.

But no need. The man jerks up himself. He crashes into the opposite wall in the entryway, head knocking into the wall.

“Ow, that’s not nice,” the man giggles. He pulls back, gaze sloppy and lips parted. He looks at Taehyung for the briefest of seconds, but that’s enough for Tae. His strong eyebrows, puffy lips, and brown eyes call out to Taehyung. He would look amazing on film. On canvas. Or even the screen.

Just as sloppy as he entered, the man is sliding along the wall and heading into the tiny excuse of a living room. “You fucking left me down there.” The man whines, but it almost sounds melodic. He sinks into the only chair, hand thrown over his forehead before it swivels back to Taehyung, who is still hanging against the wall.

As the man’s eyes begin to focus on a confused and disheveled Taehyung, the color starts to drain in an instant. He falls out of the chair in shock, shrieking again.

“Intruder!” He cries, jabbing fists forward in defense. Taehyung pushes farther into the wall, throwing his hands up and popping his knee in defense.

“You’re the intruder!” Taehyung shouts back. The door to the apartment clicks shut and both eyes dart towards the door, now leaving them locked in here. The man takes his chance to run into the room, trip, fall to the ground, and scramble behind a chair.

“Whad’you want?” He shouts from behind the chair. “I’m taken! I can fight! I have no money with me!”

Taehyung inches along the wall. Realizing how drunk the other man is, he hopes there is no real threat. “You are in MY room,” Taehyung explains, voice slow and deep.

“Ha, bullshit!” the man laughs, and it’s choppy and high. Taehyung almost laughs at the sound of it but curls his lips in. “This is my room! This is my…” he looks side to side to claim something. Instead, he slumps against the chair again. “...this is not my duffle bag...” he says, extending his arm towards it like a salesman. He hoists himself up using the back of the chair which almost topples backward under his weight. Taehyung jumps forward to help, but the man starts to walk towards him. He resigns himself to his place pressed against the wall.

The man starts to walk by him, then turns. He looks Taehyung up and down. Taehyung looks himself up and down. Silk blue pajamas, hair a little mussed. 

“Hey,” the guy says. Taehyung snaps his head back up. The kindest, softest smile is on the man’s face, but then he takes a sloppy step forward and slams his palm up by Taehyung’s head, using the wall for support. He’s dangerously close, the air engulfed in the scent of juniper and cranberry, some drink Taehyung would never order. 

“Sorry,” he giggles. As his smile loosens, Taehyung is taken aback again by how pretty the man is, and how he is actually shorter than him at this distance. The shoulders are deceptive.

“It’s okay, it happens,” Taehyung smiles a big boxy smile, trying to convey his okay-ness and make this pretty man leave.

“You…” the man starts to say something but shakes his head, leans a bit closer. “You’re really handsome,” the man whispers, glazed eyes meeting his own. Taehyung balls his fists to avoid covering his face. The photogenic stranger is so close, breath fanning on his face, complimenting him. And he doesn’t feel scared or annoyed, he feels… nervous.

“Ah,” Taehyung starts, trying to force himself to look at the stranger again, “Th-”

“Alright then!” the man shouts, shoving off the wall before Taehyung can finish. “Off I go! To the right room!” He leans over and grabs the door handle, swaying as he opens it again. “Wish me luck,” he says with a wink and starts a sloppy trek back down the hall.

The door clicks closed and Taehyung still stands against the wall, letting out a long steady breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. And stares down at the boner he didn’t realize was growing.

“What the fuck,” he says to himself. He shakes out his hair, then looks for the mirror in the hotel room. He finds his way to the bathroom, flipping the light on and leaning onto the counter. He turns his face side to side, readjusting his hair. He tries to hold back the smile threatening his composure as he tries to reimagine the look the stranger was seeing. Yeah, he is pretty handsome.

Taehyung jumps at another knock at the door. He raises an eyebrow to his reflection, so at least someone else is as befuddled as he is. Were this many visitors common at a fake fancy hotel? He trods back, wondering if it would be stranger #1 or #2 again. What would he do? What would he say?

“Hi hi, Taehyungie!” Hoseok calls from the other side of the door. Taehyung shakes off his thoughts as he’s overcome with gratitude.

Hoseok and Yoonji strode into the room, a bottle of wine and popcorn in their hands.

“Hm?” Hoseok looks Taehyung over, mouth arching into a pout. “You okay? Did you not want us to come?”

Taehyung straightens up, shaking his head with a smile big enough to crease his eyes. “No, thanks! Some drunk person just left who thought my room was his…” Taehyung checks the door again.  _ Some stranger who thinks I’m handsome _ , Taehyung clarifies for himself. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“Ah,” Yoonji’s cheeks blush a bit. “Of course Hobi couldn’t sit still when he learned you were cooped up here alone.”

“Hm, yes, definitely just my idea,” Hoseok teases, wrapping an arm around Yoonji and nosing at her cheek. Taehyung almost melts, seeing two of his favorite people in love.

The pair stay late into the night. Taehyung has to be up early, but he couldn’t lose the opportunity to have a sleepover in the comfy hotel. They all snuggle in the bed together, watching bad talk shows and trying to catch popcorn in their mouths (Yoonji threatened to leave if Taehyung made her watch  _ Call Me By Your Name  _ again).

Eventually, Yoonji passed out on her side of the bed on Hoseok’s shoulder. Hoseok and Taehyung continued to talk, mostly about how happy Taehyung is for them and his chance to do interviews. The two of them start to doze off in time. The last thing he remembers is feeling Hoseok rubbing his cheek in his hair as he whispered goodbye. 

So Taehyung is surprised to wake up with his leg tangled around Yoonji’s, both of them hugging Hoseok who currently tries to wiggle his way out of their grasps.

“Guys, I gotta get to work,” he laughs, realizing Taehyung is awake. Yoonji grumbles, tightening her grip on Taehyung’s arm. She must think it’s Hoseok, Taehyung smiles to himself.

After Hoseok slips out, Taehyung realizes he has to get up soon, too. He rolls out of bed and walks onto the balcony. The view isn’t bad, but it’s mostly just the city. Taehyung misses the view from Jungkook and Yoonji’s apartment, where Jungkook’s room faced a small forest. It formed a barrier between the residential area and the highway. Here, there were no barriers.

Taehyung’s stomach grumbles and he realizes they only ate popcorn and wine for dinner. He frowns at the missed opportunity to pretend to dine extravagantly at the small restaurant downstairs.

Yoonji is still swaddled up in the bed, a pillow over her head. Taehyung picks up his phone, turning on one of his favorite dance songs. He starts it up right when the bass drops, turning the volume up.

“Hey, hey!” He shouts, dancing next to the bed. Yoonji doesn’t even peak out. “Let’s go! Breakfast!” Taehyung sings, tugging the sheets to the beat of the music.

“Okay, okay, cool,” Yoonji groans, tugging back at the sheet. It looks like her hand is moving to the beat due to Taehyung’s tugging. But she doesn’t budge. Taehyung gives one big yank and the sheet soars off the bed. Yoonji shoots up, grabs the pillow, and chucks it at Taehyung full force. It takes out his shoulder, but he only laughs and keeps dancing.

“Fuck off, there better be fresh coffee down there,” Yoonji growls. Her hair is somehow not a mess, so after checking her reflection and throwing on a sweatshirt Hoseok left, she walks out the door without checking on Taehyung who is in the middle of changing.

When Taehyung makes it down to the breakfast area, Yoonji is on her phone with coffee in a to-go cup. She looks up at Tae, much more awake than before. The power of caffeine. She gets up as he walks over.

“Tae, we forgot about Mickey!” Yoonji sighs. “I’m going back to Hoseok’s to take care of him. Sorry, no breakfast.”

“That’s okay,” Taehyung says, eyeing some fancy premade parfaits. “Go to the- oh hey,” Taehyung stutters. Yoonji cocks her head, mouth drawn in a pout. She starts to follow his gaze but turns back to her phone when the screen lights up. “That’s one of the guys who wandered into my room last night.”

“And? Are you friends now or something?” Yoonji only half means it as a joke. It wouldn’t be the first time Taehyung made a friend after only a few seconds encounter.

“No, it’s just…” Taehyung watches the man as he turns, white T-shirt showing off defined pecs and thick arms that the kimono hid yesterday. Even his skin tone has an oaken tint to match the smell of fresh wood in the rain.

Yoonji types away on her phone still. “Okay, so…?” she trails off.

Taehyung snaps back, a sheepish smile on his face. “Oh yeah, the dog, I gotta go to the show in a bit anyway.” 

Yoonji nods, turning to go, but Taehyung pulls her back with a hug.

“Thanks for coming last night,” he squeezes tighter before letting her go.

Yoonji’s cheeks are a little pink. She avoids eye contact. “I know how you are being alone,” is the only response she gives before leaving.

Taehyung chuckles, shaking his hair out of his face. When he dashes over to get a parfait, he notices the stranger #2, looking much less intoxicated.

Actually, he looks pretty intimidating, with about 6 Belgian waffles stacked on his plate, looking like a mini-hotel with a bacon-wrapped roof. When he draws his eyes from the architecture adorning stranger #2’s plate, he meets those same round, dark eyes. He sends the man a small wave. The man only stares back blankly, blinking twice before his ears start to turn a deep red.

He takes a step toward him, but Taehyung jogs towards the elevator, two parfaits in hand for while he gets ready.

The museum is gorgeous. It’s nothing too big. Just a small building off the downtown area. It’s the aesthetic that impresses Taehyung. The space looks as though it could be designed and manipulated for each individual event. Sculptures, videography, paintings, and even a live working session fill the first and second floor. He spent far too long just enjoying being in the atmosphere before he even started seeking out his targets for interviews.

Despite his bright personality, Taehyung tends to be shy when he’s not with his friends. He’s thankful for his gentle countenance that makes others feel comfortable around him because he’d otherwise have a difficult time trying to snare these people into expressing their most intimate concerns and desires about the art they had on display. Of course, Taehyung’s natural and explicit desire to know more about their work helps, too.

By the end of the day, he’s secured all the recordings and photographs he needs. He’s also bursting with inspiration, desperate to work on something now that he’s spent the day engulfed in young talent.

Back at the hotel, he throws off his coat and stretches out on the small sofa. He scrolls through all the pictures on his phone. Some have smiling artists, some awkward, others have angled shots of their work until he eventually gets to the photos he’s collecting for his graduate work.

Since Yoonji came by yesterday, she and Hoseok will probably spend this night together. So Taehyung decides to continue the day by rewarding himself. He showers, prepping himself for some fun that night and gets dolled up. He’d be remiss not to bring a nice outfit on vacation, even if you could call this such a thing. He dawns a beige, loose fitted button-up and befittingly loose black slacks. He lets his dark hair fall flat around his face, opting for a natural look.

He peers in the mirror, practicing different expressions. He is just as much a creation as the paintings and photos he presents. Giving a nod of approval, he remembers the last time he looked in this mirror. Pretty handsome, indeed.

In the hall, two girls stare him down then giggle once he passes. By the time the door is opening to the lobby, Taehyung is feeling himself. He saunters on up to the bar, ordering something nonalcoholic and sweet, ready to enjoy the mature atmosphere.

While he sits on the barstool, he surveys the space. The lighting is low and warm, most of the furniture shades of browns, reds, and gold. A self-playing piano switches between soft, jazzy tunes. Fake fancy, Taehyung chuckles to himself.

As he scans the edge of the hotel facing the city, he pauses on one of the lounge tables.

Sitting by the windows are stranger #1 and #2. Together. Taehyung had started to assume as much, but now his suspicions were confirmed.

They were a beautiful pair. Taehyung couldn’t help but raise his index finger and thumb, lining up the shot. One of them in his glasses, a loose tshirt falling to his elbows when he leans forward on the table. The man listens intently to the other, now in a soft pink sweater and dark jeans. Their drinks sit half-empty on the table between them, the city view outlining their frames.

They both smile, looking down in shyness. Taehyung feels his own smile grow as he watches the two of them. He stands from his seat, grabbing his drink. Maybe drawn out by his day of confronting strangers, he makes his way to the table, other hand nonchalantly tucked in his pocket.

“I should have known you knew each other,” he muses once he’s within range. Both men look up, shoulders jumping a bit, at the sound of his voice. Once they see who it is, the men exchange a tacit look before they are smiling up at him.

“Guilty,” the one with glasses says. His dimples cut into his cheeks. Taehyung wants to touch them. The other man waves to the empty seat. Taehyung takes it with a nod. When he’s seated, his reflection stares back at him on the glass wall. He looks nervous.

Taehyung smiles.  _ It’s just like the interviews earlier _ , he tells himself.

“I know I might be thinking this because I drunkenly wandered into your room,” the man with soft eyes starts, leaning forward to scrutinize Taehyung, “but you look really familiar. Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

“Maybe it’s fate,” Taehyung shrugs with a boxy smile. The man leans back and side-eyes the other guy, and Taehyung’s smile turns a little nervous again.

“So,” Taehyung tries a new tactic, leaning farther back in the seat. “You both showed up at my room on accident, we already kind of met, what are your names?” He asks.

The one with glasses snickers, covering his mouth. “It all seems a little too coincidental. Kind of like a movie.”

“Maybe we are all secretly spies or something meeting in the hotel bar,” Taehyung giggles. 

“I like that. Spies always have secret identities or something,” the man with glasses eyes the other again. “Let’s call me… RM.” His smile turns teasing when the other man rolls his eyes.

“Really, aliases? This makes everything seem a little intense,” the man complains. RM props his head on his hand, waiting for the other to give his name. “Well then, I’ll be RJ.”

RJ and RM exchange a chuckle and Taehyung laughs along, too. They then turn to him expectantly. Taehyung thinks on it a moment, rubbing his chin. He remembers the fake painting in the lobby. “How about I’ll be…” he throws a peace sign over his left eye for a pose, “V.”

“V? What is that supposed to mean?” RM asks.

“My favorite artist is Van Gogh,” Taehyung responds, pleased with his quick nickname. “Oh and,” he tags on for effect, “I am visually aesthetic.”

RJ bursts out laughing, a heavy laugh from his chest. RM’s smile grows even wider. “I’d definitely agree on that,” he says, not taking his eyes off of Taehyung. He squirms at the affirmation, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, should we order some wine?” RJ inquires after he gets himself under control. “Let’s enjoy the evening.”

RM puts his hand up and RJ pouts. “I think we should all remain a little coherent this evening especially…” RJ’s eyes widen a bit and RM pauses. Taehyung watches the argument between their eyes. “Especially since we already have had a few mix-ups sober or not,” RM concludes.

Taehyung nods along, really not a fan of alcohol and also pleased at the assumption that they will continue hanging out.

After a couple rounds of small talk, Taehyung finds he really enjoys the two strangers. Meeting people for the first time reminds him of an interview. They easily run through several typical questions.

“And that’s how we met,” RJ finishes, ears a little pink after explaining how their sushi talks had ended in a rushed hook up in an airplane bathroom.

“It’s a little embarrassing, honestly,” RM rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t believe we just told a stranger that whole story. Guess that’s the power of anonymity…” he trails off.

“I think it’s amazing,” Taehyung says, and he really does think so. “It’s like a rendezvous. That’s like, a travel bucket list dream, isn’t it? Kind of like how we are all sitting in a hotel lounge chatting, strangers met by chance.” He waves his arms around and surveys the bar, lights now dimmed and filled with a few more late-night guests dressed a bit nicer than himself.

He looks back and sees both RM and RJ staring at him. But their stares aren’t in agreement or ridicule, it’s something else. Like they are trying to decipher something.

“So, V,” RJ starts, “What are you here for? What brings you to this unlikely situation we have before us?”

Taehyung leans back, feeling confident and a little boastful. “I’m here representing my university for an art exhibition. I really wanted to partake, but luckily I still got the gig of doing a few interviews.”

“You do art?” RM asks, pushing his glasses up with slim, delicate fingers. “What kind?”

“I’ve dabbled in painting, but my main deal is photography. Not sure how good I am, since I didn’t get in,” Taehyung tries to sound casual about it. Really, he isn’t too upset anymore. But Jungkook would never let go of how much he pouted the first week of his rejection.

“Photography? What kind?” RM leans forward on his elbows. RJ is slouched back in his chair, and Taehyung finds their juxtaposition very aesthetic. The contrast of RM’s tan skin and sharp chin with RJ’s lighter tones and rounded face complement each other well.

“Usually landscapes. I’ve been dabbling in portraits, though. Only recently.”

“Really?” RJ asks, perking up a bit. “I’ve done some portrait work before.”

“I’m not surprised,” Taehyung compliments. The man blushes but sends him a wink, blowing a kiss.

Taehyung’s heart stutters.

“So what inspired your transition to portraits?” RM asks, and Taehyung jumps a bit. He shouldn’t be getting butterflies from a man when his partner sits across the table.

“There’s something about…” Taehyung looks to the ceiling and purses his lip, as though the answer may be between the low hanging lights. “People are different behind the lens. And they are different when they know the focus is on them.”

RM nods, “It’s like a struggle of deciding which identity they want to represent.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung starts with a snap. RJ jumps a bit in his chair at the sound. “There’s this evolution of character. And no matter how shy someone is,” Taehyung thinks on himself, “We all want to be watched.”

RJ’s mouth quirks into a small smile. RM seems to be mulling over Taehyung’s perspective. “So you like capturing this character conflict?”

“I like seeing how long it takes someone to relax. Watch them adjust and accept the feeling of being watched,” Taehyung’s smile softens. He remembers when Jungkook would shoo his camera away, then pout when Taehyung insisted, and finally accept it, picking up random things in the vicinity to be photographed with. He was his first subject.

“That sounds fascinating,” RM encourages him again.

“Thanks,” Taehyung bites his lip, wondering how much to divulge. “It’s actually my graduate work for this semester. Identity and the lens. There are still some flaws, but I’m practicing.”

RM leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “Would you want to photograph us?”

RJ’s head jerks up, turning to RM. Taehyung watches another silent struggle between their eyes. RM shrugs. “We already know… RJ, here, is photogenic. I’m also interested in this concept of identity.”

Taehyung sinks his teeth back into his bottom lip, ruffling the back of his hair as he thinks over the offer. Really, he shouldn’t feel so shy since he’ll be behind the lens, but something about the eagerness in both their eyes makes his heart flutter.

“Um… actually, sure,” Taehyung all but whispers.

“Do you want to come back to our room?” RM offers, hands placed pensively over his mouth now. With most of his face covered, Taehyung hones in on how sharp his eyes are. He starts a bit in his seat, trying to keep his jaw from dropping.

“I mean,” RJ leans forward, hand palm up and outstretched toward Taehyung in offering. “We’ve been to your room already, might as well come check out ours, make it even.”

As they leave the restaurant, Taehyung makes a pitstop at his room to grab his camera. And to give himself a once over. A twice over. Does he look the part of a photographer ready to use complete strangers as his muses? Does he look good in general? He shakes out his hair, sends a smile into the mirror, and ducks back out with his camera in hand.

Outside their room (predictably the same as Taehyung’s room number, but with an 8 instead of a 7), Taehyung takes a deep breath, puffing out his chest, then pushes it all out his nose.

He knocks.

“Come in,” a muffled voice calls.

Taehyung pushes the door open into a dimly lit room. The layout matches his room, but somehow they’ve adjusted the lighting. Taehyung wanders in until he stands in the small living room space across from the bed.

RM sits on the couch with his arm slung over the back, RJ next to him. They’ve both changed into loungewear, wearing loose shirts and joggers.

“Is the lighting too weird?” RM questions, looking to the lamps. Now Taehyung can see that they’ve draped shirts over the tops of the lamps. “We kind of thought it was mood lighting, but we aren’t photographers…”

“No, no!” Taehyung waves. “I mean, it works fine. Whatever you think will help you express you.”

RM and RJ turn towards each other and giggle. “Express us, huh?” RJ teases, poking RM’s chest.

Taehyung observes the two on the couch. They already seem plenty comfortable.

Maybe he stares a bit too long, because RM cocks his head and asks, “So, photographer, what do you want us to do?”

Taehyung coughs, adjusting his collar, and fidgets with the camera. “Ah, um, anything.”

“Anything?” RJ’s eyebrow quirks.

“Anything,” Taehyung nods. “Just know that I’m here, photographing you, and try to not think about who you need or want to be. My goal is to capture the process of your imposed identity fading away on film.”

“Amazing,” RM murmurs, but RJ rolls his eyes. He shrugs his shoulder, trying to adjust more. A small smile tugs at Taehyung’s lips, already recognizing the process. Right now, they are both hyper-aware of the camera, adjusting to pose for the pictures.

Snap.

“You took it? That click?” RM checks. His hand wraps around RJ’s shoulder, who crosses his leg for a different pose.

Taehyung nods. “Yes, no flash. Trying to make the camera as forgettable as possible.”

Snap.

“I kind of see what he means,” RJ says, turning to look at RM.

Snap.

“What?” RM turns to look at him. Their faces are so close, their body posture vibing off the other.

Snap.

“Well, we both started to pose,” RJ starts, and Taehyung nods to himself, “but we need to keep it more natural.” Dimples appear on RM’s cheeks as he considers RJ’s proposal.

Snap.

“Natural?” RM muses. He lazes farther into RJ’s side of the sofa, his shoulders leaning into RJ’s chest. Both their eyes bore into the camera, lips slightly parted. Taehyung can’t hold back the smile, both men still posing despite trying to feel more comfortable.

Snap.

RM nudges at RJ until he’s half laying on the sofa, back pressed into the armrest. RM pushes over him, head propped on RJ’s shoulder. The tops of their irises ghost under thick eyelashes and Taehyung zooms in, focusing only on their expressions. He feels the camera drifting from his face and towards their joint stare.

Snap.

The tips of RM’s fingers drag up RJ’s thigh then over his own chest before resting at the base of RJ’s neck. RJ hasn’t broken eye contact through the whole motion, but his chest picks up, eyes hooding. 

Snap.

Taehyung zooms out to capture RM tracing over RJ’s lips. The plumpness of his bottom lip caught on his fingers, pulling down, revealing the slightest underbite created by perfect, white teeth.

Snap.

Taehyung almost jumps when RJ moves. He shoves off the armrest, pushing him and RM back into a sitting position. RM tries to pull RJ back in, gripping his thigh as he leans into the back cushion to get a better look at him. But RJ’s fists at RM’s hair, holding him back.

Snap.

RJ braces his forearm against RM who wraps a hand around his waist. A dangerous smile curls on RM’s face. His white incisors on display give him a predatory appearance as he looks over RJ’s body fighting against his pull.

Snap.

RJ ducks in, his mouth inches from RM’s smile. Taehyung swallows, mouth dry. But before their lips touch, he glances over in Taehyung’s direction. 

Snap.

RJ kisses RM. It’s soft and slow compared to their tug of war. He takes RM’s bottom lip in between his own, pulling back lightly. RM follows, his body language confessing that he doesn’t want the kiss to end. And neither does Taehyung.

Snap.

RJ removes his brace from RM’s chest and wraps both arms around his neck. RM shifts on the couch, one knee lapping over RJ’s. RM’s back now shields most of the view, knees now on either side of RJ’s thighs who rests against the back of the couch. His hand, still on RJ’s thigh, tries moving inward.

Taehyung can tell by the strain of his legs that RJ leans in again. There’s a soft moan and the sound of kissing. When RM’s head turns, Taehyung sees RJ’s ears colored red. They both glance in Taehyung’s direction, RM from over his shoulder. Taehyung looks back at them, above the camera. RJ’s eyes crinkle in a smile and breaks Taehyung from his trance.

Snap.

RM shifts over RJ’s legs. He moves to sit on his thighs. The motion is easy, simple, like they are familiar with the motions.

Snap.

But then RJ pushes on his shoulders, trying to lift off the sofa before RM can pin him down. But instead, he just manages to shift RM to the side, straddling one of his legs. RM lets out a soft chuckle, trying to shove him over again.

Snap.

“You’re ruining the photoshoot,” RM teases, hoisting back onto his knees. His voice makes Taehyung startle. It slices through the tension that had built around him. Taehyung wets his lips, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth is from being jaw-dropped.

“Ha, that’s smart coming from you,” RJ scoffs, trying to bite at RM as he put all his weight on RJ’s shoulders.

“I would say I’m pretty smart, thank you,” RM presses his leg up in between RJ’s thighs. He gasps, latching onto RM’s forearm.

“Oh, and you said my puns were ba-“

Snap.

The flash of the camera makes them both pause and look over at Tae. He has his lips tucked between his teeth trying not to laugh at the sudden change in mood. As both men look at him through the lens, faces confused, he snaps another photo. Their frustrated expressions stand in stark contrast to the previous expressions he’d been seeing.

“Like what you see?” RM snickers. Taehyung nods happily.

RJ peeks out from behind RM’s body still caging him in. “Not much to see from over there anymore. Why don’t you come closer?” RJ offers.

The camera falters in Taehyung’s hands. “It might be a little hard to catch everything from way over there,” RJ waves to the chair Taehyung had sat in, only three feet away.

Taehyung studies at the two men again. RM still hangs over RJ on the couch. Their shoot had taken a turn he wasn’t expecting, but he doesn’t want to stop.

He doesn’t.

Taehyung nods slowly. “Okay,” his voice comes out huskier than he expected. He clears his throat when both men seem to catch it. He stands, waddling over to the chair that faces the sofa from the side. When he sits, he places his knee on his elbow to support the camera.

RJ smiles at Taehyung through the camera lens. RM takes his chance and dives down into the dip of RJ’s clavicle, his mouth wide but only mouthing at the skin. RJ’s eyes go wide at the sudden contact.

Snap.

RJ’s lips part, dragging his fingers down RM’s forearms. Taehyung leans over, focusing the camera on where the red perforations on RM’s skin stop at RJ’s fingernails.

Snap.

He pulls the lens back, admiring the tangle of limbs as RJ pulls one of his knees up, RM’s legs in between his, arms entangled together. RM growls, the sound rocking through Taehyung’s chest, and starts to mouth more persistently against RJ’s neck.

Snap.

The softest cry falls from RJ’s lips when RM nips below his ear. Taehyung moves back over to find RJ’s eyes through the lens. He drops the camera a bit when he sees his cherry cheeks, bottom lip a bit swollen, eyes black and staring straight at Tae, not the camera.

“You’re a pervert, aren’t you, V?” RJ says, chest heaving as RM bites at the base of his neck. His eyes flutter but he doesn’t close them, holding Taehyung’s gaze.

Taehyung hugs the camera to his chest defensively. His mouth opens in a frown, trying to consider how to defend himself in the name of art.

“It’s okay,” RJ continues. RM looks over at Tae, lifting from RJ’s neck to stare over at him. The two sets of eyes are dark as night above strawberry red cheeks. RJ’s arm releases RM, and he grazes his fingers over Taehyung’s thigh.

Taehyung doesn’t move, even though the touch is akin to a cattleprod straight to his ribs. With that touch, he’s no longer behind the camera. He’s becoming a part of the scene. “I guess we are, too,” RJ finishes.

RM lets out a low, dark chuckle. “We like it.” Without breaking eye contact, RM grabs RJ’s jaw and turns him to face him. 

“To be watched,” RM explains. He dips down to lave his tongue into RJ’s mouth. Taehyung feels his breath hitch, the groan that comes from RJ with the piercing look from RM. Taehyung scrambles for his camera again.

Snap.

“Do you like it?” RM asks. He licks into RJ’s mouth again. Taehyung nods without even thinking. He shifts in his seat, weight growing heavy between his legs. “Do you want to be RJ?”

Taehyung drops the camera into his lap. RJ turns slowly to look back at him, the light fingers on his thigh now squeezing. He thinks his heart is about to squeeze out of his chest simultaneously.

“What do you think?” RJ asks. The smile on his face is gentle and deceptive of the current situation.

Taehyung stares, trying to comprehend the offer, the two entangled men looking him over. The same predatory gaze of RM, his half hooded eyes, is now looking at him, not RJ.

He swallows once, then twice.“But, you’re already…” Taehyung tries to find the words.

“Yes, we’re together,” RJ finishes for him.

“But you see, we have a problem,” RM continues, he sits back on his heels and runs his hands absentmindedly over RJ’s sides.

“We tend to disagree often about... control,” RJ sighs, as though this is a trivial issue.

“We’ve been trying to think of a solution. It’s fun to fight for power each time we fuck,” the word makes Taehyung’s stomach drop, “but it gets pretty frustrating. To find out how we can both be sated, we thought maybe…” RM looks Taehyung up and down.

“Maybe we could add an extra player,” RJ says.

RM scoffs. “This isn’t a video game.”

“This also isn’t a narrative lecture either,” RJ fires back.

As they bicker, Taehyung just blinks at them. He feels his heart racing, his body growing hot, his thumbs rubbing at the sides of the camera in his lap. He takes a breath and sets it to the side. Both men stop bickering and give their attention back to him.

Taehyung shifts out of the seat and onto his knees to get closer to the men. RM returns to his seated position on the couch so both men are sitting before Taehyung, who scoots forward, slowly. 

Taehyung places his fingers lightly on RJ’s knees, feeling RM’s gaze in his peripheral. RJ looks down at him as Taehyung brings his gaze from the straining in his pants, up RJ’s chest, to his lips, before meeting his eyes. He leans up, focused on RJ’s plump lips. His hands follow the same path RM had taken minutes ago.

He swallows, wincing as he hears the sound. RJ’s face blurs as he leans closer and closer, hands now at his hips, malleable beneath the joggers.

“I need to hear you say it,” RJ purrs, Taehyung’s mouth so close he feels each breath of RJ’s words ghost across his lips. Taehyung’s eyes snap up to his. They’re hard, black.

“Yes,” he says, his voice coming out quieter than he expected.

“Yes, what?” RM reiterates. Taehyung thinks for a minute, not breaking from RJ’s gaze.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks again. “I consent, let’s do it.”

He closes the space, lips determined and urged on by RJ’s muffled gasp. RJ’s hand immediately digs into his hair and pulls back. Taehyung feels the bend in his neck as he’s angled away for RJ to get a good look at him. He huffs out a nervous chuckle.

“Give me a safe word,” RJ demands, his voice deeper than before.

“Camera,” Taehyung responds immediately.

“Camera?” RM asks, shuffling closer to the two. “You don’t want to use it?”

“Some art is better experienced,” Taehyung says with a crooked smile, mouth still ajar from how far back his neck is pulled. RJ and RM laugh.

“Okay then,” RJ says. He leans in and lightly presses a kiss to Taehyung’s lips. It’s soft, tastes ever so slightly of the cranberry soda from earlier. Taehyung wants more, but RJ’s grip doesn’t loosen. “You tell us, anything you don’t like, don’t want. We’ll stop. Otherwise…” RJ glances at RM.

“Otherwise, you obey,” RM says and his voice almost has a happy lilt. RJ releases his grip and Taehyung nods enthusiastically, heart racing in anticipation. His stomach flips when that same dimpled-smile spreads across RM’s face under hooded eyes.

RJ stands. The bulge in his jeans is now at nose level, and Taehyung wants nothing more than to nuzzle into it, mouth at him and judge the size before he starts pulling at the zipper.

But they have other plans. A harsh grip yanks Taehyung from the floor. He’s twisted to face RM, who pulls him to his chest. He sizes him up, almost the same height as Taehyung. He whispers in Taehyung’s ear, “Strip and on the bed. Now.” He nips the earlobe and Taehyung jumps.

Taehyung can’t help the almost childish giggle. He’s giddy with the new experience, with the attention as he steps back to pull his shirt over his head. He crosses his arms in front, feeling the muscles of his soft stomach pull as he tosses the fabric over his head. RM stands behind RJ, arms around his waist, watching Taehyung over his shoulder.

Taehyung takes a steadying breath. It’s like modeling. He’s done it plenty of times for art classes.

He pulls the belt of his pants back, trying to make each motion smooth. As he pulls the belt out, he lets it fall from a loose wrist, not taking his eyes off the two men who watch it drop to the floor with a thud. Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Taehyung runs his thumbs through his waistband. It only takes a twist of his hand to pull the button loose. When the pants drop, both men stiffen a bit.

No boxers, no briefs. Now he stood there, stark naked. Taehyung hadn’t bothered with extra layers after his shower, planning on using his alone time to his advantage regardless.

He drops back, bouncing on the bed. His already half-hard cock slaps against his thigh from the motion. He lifts himself, sliding back onto the bed. He waits for his next command.

RJ and RM separate. Both stalk towards the bed, one on either side. “Hands and knees,” RJ demands.

“Excellent idea,” RM agrees. The two men smile at each other. Taehyung rolls over, realizing how nervous he is when his breath shudders while he adjusts onto all fours. He can only see RJ now. And then RJ moves out of his view to admire him. 

“Good boy,” RM purrs, and Taehyung feels the words spark in his brain and prickle down his spine.

He’s on full display, like one of the many statues posed in an art museum. An empty hallway with two passersby stopping to admire him. He ponders his posture, similar to what he’s been taught in school. His position now, crafted by someone else. He’s vulnerable, but willingly so. His most private places on display, his position making it difficult to run or hide. As both men contemplate his form, he’d rather them ravage it. If there were a “do not touch sign” before him, he’d rip it to shreds.

He loves it. He loves being the object of affection, always aiming to make himself his greatest masterpiece. 

“You’re beautiful,” RJ hums with a warm hand caressing Taehyung ass.

RM tilts his chin up. Taehyung arches back to crane in the direction the hand on his chin demands. Blunt nails dig into his ass as he looks up at RM’s contemplative face.

Taehyung is the art. Their art. They are molding him into their own creation.

“How do you feel?” RM asks. He cocks his head to the side. The soft glow of the bedside lamps makes him look surprisingly soft. The hand on his ass is kneading, drawing closer to the fold of his cheeks. Taehyung tries to swallow, and there’s the slightest twinge of pain.

“Make me your art,” he whispers. The man quirks an eyebrow, then reaches up to take his glasses off. He sets them gently on the side table before turning back to Taehyung.

The softness of his earlier expression is gone, eyes narrowed, hand tightening on his jaw as he smirks. Taehyung’s mouth goes dry.

RM’s eyes look over Tae. “Did that sound like a command to you, hyung?”

Both RJ’s hands now pull Taehyung’s cheeks apart, the massaging getting rough. “It did.”

“Naughty, naughty,” RM tuts with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’re in any position to make demands?”

Taehyung tries to shake his head, but RM’s grip is tight. Instead, he just tongues at the drool building in the side of his mouth.

RM squats down, hand grazing past Taehyung’s chin and over his cheek, only to grip his hair tight. Taehyung’s elbows buckle a bit at the tugging. “Are you going to be a good boy or a naughty boy?”

Taehyung huffs. He doesn’t know if he can manage either of those options at this moment. His brain starts to fog. The delicious pain in his scalp mixed with the pressure on his-

“Oh,” is all Taehyung manages. RJ’s thumb rubs against his rim. Taehyung tries to lean into it but RM’s grip is firm. He huffs again.

“What was that?” RJ asks, and the thumb is gone. Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“I’m a good boy,” it sounds strange to hear him call himself a boy, voice a deeper tenor than both men.

And he loves it.

And he loves the reward. RJ’s thumb returns. It presses in. Taehyung’s jaw slackens, eyes starting to close.

“So fresh and clean,” RJ notices. RM looks over Taehyung to his partner. “Someone was ready.”

Taehyung’s cheeks burn red.

“Oh?” RM asks. “Was this your plan all along?”

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to lose the sensation of either man with a wrong move. He lets out a whine when RJ presses deeper. He tries to suck in the droll building in his mouth.

RM’s smile twitches, leaning in close again. It reminds Taehyung that he still hasn’t kissed him. Still hasn’t felt that plush bottom lip mold to his own. “Were you going to think of us while you fucked yourself?”

Taehyung’s eyes roll back in his head, wanting some kind of relief. Both men touch him, but not in the ways he wanted. Not how he needed.

But good boys get rewarded. So he nods his head quickly. RM chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. Taehyung chases, it, but RM leans back on his heels again.

“Naughty and a good boy,” he teases, stroking Taehyung’s hair. Taehyung practically keens at the praise but cries out instead when RJ adds a second finger, something wet and cold drizzling along his hole.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” Taehyung breathes. He’s able to rock back now on RJ’s hand. His bottom lip catches between his teeth. The whole time, RM watches his expression intently.

“You like that?” he asks. Taehyung nods in time with his backward thrusts.

“You like getting fucked open by him?” RM asks again. Taehyung whines in embarrassment as he ducks his head. RM’s firm grip is back in his hair. “Eyes up, pretty boy.”

Taehyung can’t help the way he smiles at the pet name. He loves it. He wants to be pretty. RM notices.

“You want to be our good boy, pretty boy?” he whispers in Taehyung’s ear as RJ inserts another finger. The sound of squelching joins Taehyung’s pants. RM mouths at his cheek, down his jaw. “What about our pretty, good little fuck toy?”

Taehyung groans. It’s guttural, from the back of his throat. “Yes,” he breathes. Because he does. He wants to be molded, used, on display.

RM chuckles. Before Taehyung can finally speak once more, he hears a familiar rip. And before he can turn around, a strong arm comes over and around his shoulders, hoisting him up and pulling him flush against RJ. 

All he feels is skin. Though he can see nothing, he knows it’s beautiful. It’s soft, defined even against his shoulders. Taehyung’s tongue licks his lips as he comprehends the completely naked man behind him, while RM takes in his naked, restrained form.

RJ’s other arm angles his hips, pushing his lower back out. And then Taehyung feels it. The blunt head of RJ’s cock pressing against his rim, warm and slippery. His head lulls onto RJ’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” he whines, the word drawn out as RJ pushes the tip in. He gives a small kiss to Taehyung’s temple.

“Good, such a good boy,” RJ moans into his jaw, pressing down his throat. Taehyung grabs onto the arm holding him upright, the stretch making him want to pull away but the thickness pressing on his prostate making him push back harder.

“He’s already falling apart,” RM’s laugh makes Taehyung’s eyes flutter open. He feels laughter rumble in RJ’s chest. Once RM has Taehyung’s attention, he rips off his shirt and makes quick work of his pants. There’s no deliberate movement like Taehyung’s earlier stripdown, but the contrast only spurs him on.

Where RJ is thorough, working him open, RM is decisive, taking what he wants. He gets onto the bed, on his knees, scooting closer. His thick, curved cock sways as with each shuffle of his knees.

“Already getting stuffed and all you can think about his my cock?” RM teases, fisting at his erection. Taehyung’s tongue darts out, wanting to lick up the precum that runs over RM’s fingers.

Taehyung’s mind almost explodes when RM is pressed flush against him. The warm bodies encasing him on both sides and the friction of RM’s cock brushing against his own has Taehyung choking on his spit. He leans forward, head resting on RM’s shoulder while RJ continues to fuck into him at a steady, even pace.

“Is it good, hyung?” RM asks, but he’s whispering it in Taehyung’s ear.

“So, so good,” RJ grunts out, thrusting with each word.

“That’s because he’s our good boy,” RM teases, tongue licking into Taehyung’s ear. Taehyung reaches out, fingers digging into RM’s sides, and the man only shoves his tongue in farther, hand over RJ’s on his hip, pulling them both closer. RM’s cock rubs against his own, and it makes the breath catch in his throat.

When Taehyung whines, RM runs his hands over Taehyung’s biceps, a comforting motion. He gives a light kiss to his ear before an arm stretches over his shoulder. Then Taehyung hears it. The lewd sound of tongues sliding between hungry lips. The soft moans of RJ and the teasing hums of RM. 

Taehyung is surrounded by sex. The base of human instinct. He is the raw embodiment of human desire yet also encased by the very same thing.

“Babe,” RM calls. Taehyung blushes, knowing it’s not meant for him even though RM’s hand tightens around his arm.

“Mm,” RJ hums back, giving an extra shove that makes Taehyung cry out again. As though a statue once more, a malleable piece of art, the men act as though they are ignoring him, using him for nothing other than pleasure. Taehyung starts to fall limp, consumed by the experience. The deep digs of RJ’s cock, his body pressing his into RM’s firm chest, cock throbbing against Taehyung’s stomach. He can barely keep track of all the sensations.

But then, RM’s shuffling back. And as he shuffles, Taehyung starts to fall forward. “Be careful,” he chuckles.

Taehyung braces on the bed, RJ not letting up his strokes but changing to a deep, steady pace. Taehyung can feel the head of his cock pull at his rim before sliding back in. This time, his drool really does fall onto the sheets.

“Mm, you like it?” RM asks. Taehyung tries to look up but it’s too difficult at this angle. Instead, he stares straight ahead at the cock before him. Thick, so thick with a slight curve that exaggerated the bounce as RM sat back in his heels. “All that drool needs to be put to good use.”

“Mhm,” Taehyung tries, licking his lips. “Please,” he manages a coherent word as RJ anchors Taehyung to his cock, hands bracing on his hips again.

RM grabs Taehyung by his hair again, and he’s already forgotten how good the sting feels, giving a dry laugh at the sensation. RM is smiling back down. “You look pretty when you smile. That pretty mouth.” Taehyung keeps smiling, breath punching out with each stroke from RJ.

“Bet that pretty mouth would look amazing around my cock,” Taehyung isn’t even ashamed when he drops his jaw, a silent request to let RM in.

When RM steadies the head against his lips, RJ shoves in harder. Taehyung almost takes all of RM’s dick in one go. He chokes, eyes blurring and throat contracting. He can hear RJ laugh as RM hisses. Taehyung chokes again when the dick punches the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” RM moans, and Taehyung relishes the indirect compliment. RM shuffles, knee edging at Taehyung’s fingers balled in the sheets. “Tap twice, okay?” RM reassures him. Gaining his breath, Taehyung wraps his lips around RM’s cock, his jaw aching not even a minute in. RM’s hand tightens in his hair, moving to the base of his scalp to aid Taehyung in swallowing down his cock.

Taehyung’s completely lost, intoxicated by every touch, every noise, every whiff of either man. RM’s grip holds him up more than his own arms as he takes a face-fucking while RJ drives in from behind. He can’t hold back his moans, the sound gurgling in his throat each time RM pulls out. He’s not even moving on his own, it’s simply RJ’s thrusts pushing him over RM’s fat cock.

“Takes it so good,” RJ grunts and Taehyung moans even louder to let him know he agrees.

“Pretty lips and that tight ass,” RM croons. The words dig into Taehyung’s core, and he’s so preoccupied to even realize how his own orgasm is drawing closer and closer.

“Getting used up,” RJ agrees. “You really are a work of art.”

“Just for us,” RM adds, both hands now in Taehyung’s hair. They scratch lightly and Taehyung can’t hold on anymore. There’s so much going on, every and any sense he could think of on high alert. He feels it all, the curling in his stomach, the fingers in his hair and on his hips, the tightness in his ass, the soreness of his throat. He hears RJ’s hips smack into his ass and himself slurping up RM’s cock. The heady smell of sex mixed with the two men. It’s everything.

When RJ reaches down to lightly cup his cock, it’s the last thing Taehyung needs. He comes forcefully, spine arching and stomach drawing in as he chokes out a sob, unable to fathom any of the senses that previously overwhelmed him as pure pleasure surges through every nerve in his being. His limbs tingle and his stomach warms and his mind blanks. He’s humanity’s greatest experience consumes him.

He’s brought back to reality when RM pulls from his mouth. He drops to his elbows, the extra support now gone. But he’s a good boy. Even in his post-orgasm haze, his tongue lulls out as he watches RM stroke his cock fast and hard.

“Awhshit,” he hears RM, seconds before warmth splatters across his face. Over his eye, dripping down his cheek, and decorating his lips. Taehyung smiles at the sensation, RM painting him as a new canvas.

Only seconds later does he feel RJ’s hips stutter, shoving in with a few more erratic rolls of his hips, swears panting from his mouth. His body falls onto Taehyung’s back which is arched high like a cat waking from a Sunday nap. Everything is warm and Taehyung closes his eyes in the feeling as RM leans over him, the sloppy sound of kisses filling the air again.

But then, he’s taken by surprise. Both men hoist him up gingerly. Taehyung’s eyes droop closed when finally, finally, RM presses a tender kiss to his lips. He feels RJ’s arms wrap around him again, almost in a consoling way, as he plants kisses to Taehyung’s shoulder, his neck, under his ear.

Taehyung sighs into RM’s mouth as his tongue lightly traces his bottom lip, but not intruding farther. As RJ falls back onto his heels, Taehyung is cradled in his lap. Both men look down at him with blissful smiles. RJ’s chest still heaves, and it’s like a gentle rocking for Taehyung.

“That was…” RJ starts. He looks over at RM, who looks back.

“That was nice,” RM finishes, sounding almost bashful when he wipes the tears from Taehyung’s cheeks. The stark contrast to the man who had just shoved his cock in Taehyung's mouth makes him come back to reality. When he stares up at the two men, a large, boxy smile spreads on his face.

“Yeah, it was,” Taehyung nods, wrapping his arms around both men as they fall back onto the bed. They all hit the pillows, snuggling close. Taehyung looks down as he feels pressure on his stomach and sees the two men’s hand interlaced over his soft belly.

When they both prop up on an elbow, Taehyung looks between their two faces, kind and endearing. They all look between each other for a bit, grasping what had just happened.

“You can stay, if you want,” RJ says with a shrug. RM nods, nuzzling into Taehyung’s hair. Taehyung looks at the ceiling while he mulls over the offer. The school had paid for his room, anyway.

“Do you have any wine?” Taehyung asks. “Oh,” he sits up. “We never ate dinner.”

The two men giggle, suddenly seeming very shy, and they move from the bed to throw clothes on and head into the tiny kitchen. Taehyung rolls off the bed to grab his own pants before they all settle back on the bed with a glass of wine and the room service menu.

* * *

Yoonji comes back with the car the next day to pick up Taehyung. She’s leaning against the side of the car with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as Taehyung rolls out of the building ten minutes late, bag thrown over his shoulder and camera around his neck.

“Did the museum go well?” Yoonji asks, getting into the car before Taehyung has even thrown his stuff in. She gives him a once over. “Are museums like pornos for artists? You got some dumb look on your face like you got laid.”

Taehyung giggles as he shoves his bag in the back seat and slides on into the passenger’s side. He leans over the console into Yoonji’s space. She grimaces, leaning towards the window.

“You won’t believe what happened last night,” Taehyung smiles wide.

Yoonji wrinkles her nose. She turns the key in the ignition and starts to roll out of the parking lot. “Knowing you, I bet I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the relationships and references in this story come from other stories in the collection. If you enjoyed this one, check them out :)


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